Zayn stood still for a moment, watching the body of the monster remain lifeless — like a bonfire of a beast had finally run out of fuel.
The stench of rot was still thick in the air, but without the beast's looming presence, it felt… manageable. Somewhat distant to the nose.
His legs were jelly, his shoulders on fire, and every breath scraped against his ribs like rusted nails.
He limped forward, past Kara and Tobias, past Bran — who was still admiring the shimmering boss core — and toward the twitching remains of the monster.
His sword dragged against the floor behind him with a soft metallic scrape.
"Zayn?" Elisse called gently, voice barely audible. "What are you — "
But he didn't respond.
He stopped just before the body, its massive form lying in a twisted heap, limbs broken at unnatural angles.
Its face still wore a grimace of pain, one side caved in from his horn, the other riddled with stab wounds.
And then — ding.
